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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134565">Take It Like a God</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelvetCoalmine/pseuds/VelvetCoalmine'>VelvetCoalmine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Assassin's Creed - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blasphemy, Blow Jobs, Bottom Eivor (Assassin's Creed), Brotherly Bonding, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, First Time Blow Jobs, Hair-pulling, M/M, Male Eivor (Assassin's Creed), No Spoilers, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rough Sex, Sloppy Makeouts, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:55:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,738</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelvetCoalmine/pseuds/VelvetCoalmine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eivor may have cursed himself for thinking the heinous Ragnarsson before him was anything but abhorrent in his method toward glory. In all this, he was a "true Vikingr," the voice of the All Father echoed in his skull. </p><p>Would Eivor think such a thing now that the same bloodthirsty Dane is leaning over halfway across an unstable wooden table, horn of mead in hand, begging for the banter he incessantly craved? The potency of those wild eyes snuck into Eivor's flesh like a needle in fabric. No, not in fabric, in his flesh itself</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eivor (Assassin's Creed) &amp; Ubba (fl. 860s), Eivor (Assassin's Creed) &amp; Ívar beinlausi Ragnarsson | Ivar the Boneless, Eivor (Assassin's Creed)/Ubba (fl. 860s), Eivor (Assassin's Creed)/Ívar beinlausi Ragnarsson | Ivar the Boneless</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first fanfic and I'm pretty nervous about posting it but after /that/ arc thoughts of these two in a rough yet respected image of one another wouldn't leave me be. Rough and respected in many, many ways. For a first fic, I didn't want to put all my eggs in one basket so I held back a little on a few filthier things but either way I hope you like it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Entering a desecrated and defaced Saxon church was, by now, commonplace. What struck Eivor upon arrival was the tinge of copper growing ever clearer with each step forward, the echo of them muted underneath the cries of agony resounding off stone walls and high ceilings. It was quite the change of pace compared to the Danes of high honor currently reclaiming their homes in Grantebridgeschire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slow clicking of gears suspending a prisoner by the ankles held the Norseman's morbid curiosity despite having more than enough experience with blood and guts galore to know the ending of such a scene. Below the tortured being, a man nearly as tattooed as himself hunched forward as if to listen for a sound signalling the perfect height to terrorize the half naked man above. He must be calculated, spending time focusing on methods of torture rather than taking one of the bloodied axes on his hip to finish the poor sod off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the prisoner was dead. A few seconds, a spank to one slave, a kiss to the ill fated and it was over. The audible crack of the captive's skull and spine did not seem to phase the executioner. Not delight, not contempt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was Ivarr Ragnarsson, one of the men born from the blood of Ragnar Lothbrok carrying the legacy on his name and paving his own through the slaughtering and conquering of kings.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You plunged your knife deep into the heart of this kingdom." Eivor spoke aloud as he stayed on the Dane's heels. The bustling fortress around them titled "Repton'' or "The Shit Hole" by his guide nearly left his poetic inference unheard. The comment was more of an observation of Ivarr than a commentary on the chaotically ravaged state of Mercia. He could hear the prickling of a smile on Ivarr's slightly bitten lips, taking his words as a compliment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's right!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor may have cursed himself for thinking the heinous Ragnarsson before him was anything but abhorrent in his method toward glory. In all this, he was a "true Vikingr," the voice of the All Father echoed in his skull. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Would Eivor think such a thing now that the same bloodthirsty Dane is leaning over halfway across an unstable wooden table, horn of mead in hand, begging for the banter he incessantly craved? The potency of those wild eyes snuck into Eivor's flesh like a needle in fabric. No, not in fabric, in his flesh itself, already scarred where the tool was inserted haphazardly many times before by the same gaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If I knew you were such a damn lightweight we'd be drinking at my quarters." Ivarr joked crudely with an impertinent grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whether or not he was serious, a disgusting smirk was curling on Ivarr's war torn face and itched for a fist in it. If Eivor was any other drengr, he just might grant himself the permission..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And I may have taken the suggestion hadn't I known they call you," Leaning forward, he enunciated the next few words with a tilted chin, ensuring Ivarr had clarity on who was going to have the upper hand in this exchange of unabashed banter. "The Boneless." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"A lower hanging fruit than the balls you're going to suck on, Wolf-kissed." Ivarr parroted Eivor's position and over pronunciation on his title. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Imagine that. Finally having someone on their knees for-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without missing a beat, the older man bit back, ready to catch the younger in his words like a test of wit and agility. "Oh, I'm imagining!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How dare he? How dare such a repulsive image send warmth through Eivor's body slowly like dye dripping into water, mingling until the substances were one. And just as the liquid, it will eventually be impossible to separate the two. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor never found the eldest Ragnarsson to be an attractive figure. His hair is flat and peppered with grey strands. The perpetual expression of mischief on his face makes him difficult to trust. His facial hair is unkempt, stubble coating his jaw and chin with a few cuts from time to time, clearly from not bothering to be careful enough. Ivarr's skin is decorated with evidence of brash engagement with weapons. Nothing about the man was dignified even by Viking standards. To make matters worse, his hinges have been unscrewed then replaced backward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creeping of mead drenched opinions quietly banished his former harsher judgements. As he stared with feigned condescension, Ivarr's sharp jawline came into focus as well as large, rounded, and expressive eyes. It's almost impossible to misinterpret him with eyes like that. If you do, he'd surely explain with clarity through narrow lips, still bitten, still beckoning. There's something inside him resembling embers surrounded by the breeze, always threatening to set fire to all around it. That's what's exciting. You never know when and what will finally ignite a devastating flame.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly a rough hand sank into blonde roots at the nape, gripping firmly and tilting his head up further to brandish the scar on Eivor's neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Still having dark thoughts about me, I see. How predictable." He taunted before feeling strong fingers angling his jaw roughly, forcing them to stare into one another's glare. All he could do in that moment was wet his lips and laugh. Maybe he wasn't so predictable after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You lose yourself. It's undoubtedly your woven fate to be brought to your hands and knees before the gods with this filthy habit of yours, Ivarr."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor breathed, thoughts beginning to fog with arousal and alcohol, confidence powering his grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No other men sank their fingers into his hair as Ivarr does. Many habitually pull his braid or wrap the length of it around their fist. While it not unpleasant, it wasn't a successful demonstration of dominance as intended. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The current hand in his hair could force his eyes back into his skull if combined with- no. Enough of that thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll decide when I arrive at Valhalla's doors. You're the only one I plan to get on all fours like a bitch in heat." Ivarr doesn't mind the firm hold on his neck, in fact, he appreciated it. His Adams apple bobbed once in discomfort underneath a strong palm, much to Eivor's satisfaction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A pang rattled the younger Viking's chest, before sinking low only to settle between his thighs. Eivor is no stranger to flirtation, especially from men, but this was nothing of the usual sort. This is a declaration. Lidded eyes under long, blonde lashes lingered along the deep, red scar starting at a strong chin, trailing up a pronounced cheekbone, then across an icy eye blazing with the harsh fridgidness of Hel itself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Someone so worn with so much pride-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without warning, his head was jerked forward past the Dane's. Eivor's scalp began to ache under unforgiving fingers, shifting the pleasure of being handled into a soreness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heat caressed the outer shell of his ear and neck as he was spoken to in a whisper through grit teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivar smelled of alcohol and a mix of new and withered leathers, leaving Eivor with a need to press his nose into his neck for a sense of the scent </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ivarr</span>
  </em>
  <span> carried. Not his clothing. Not his last fragrant drink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I will grind you into the ground so fucking hard," Ivarr whispered through a growl and grit teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand loosened its grip to slide carefully down the nape of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"you'll see the great hall."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I will hold you to it." Eivor followed suit, releasing his throat to allow his fingertips to ghost over the length of it, threatening to squeeze again at any moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clattering sounds of Repton faded back into consciousness as the two pulled away from each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The urge to run his hands over the back of his scalp to soothe his ache went ignored. It would satisfy Ivarr far too much. He couldn't have that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Get your ass in my quarters so I can plow it, Wolf Kissed." A smile and gleam in his gaze only Loki himself could give played on his countenance before downing the last of drops of mead into his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor stood to leave, locking eyes with the Ragnarsson like a raven ready to pick the flesh off dying prey, silently noting to himself this not being a concession but another set challenge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not long after leaving, Eivor found himself where he was told to arrive, absently looking over scattered paper on a table. A few nasty letters caught his eye though he didn't bother to read them despite his new habit of carefully looking over newfound documents. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The night crept over the fortress in what felt like seconds, leaving Eivor to believe he's been successfully stood up. Just as his pride started  to take a hit, the heavy tent curtain peeled back to reveal Ivarr stumbling in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Son of a-" He hissed, kicking a crate "Your clothes are on. Why?"  Frustration and confusion littered his tone as he approached.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor raised a brow with arms crossed over his chest and leaning back against the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you think this was a gift? You must work to reap your rewards just as any other." He watched with hidden anticipation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're right, taking is way more appetizing." Ivarr teased, palms coming down hard on the table either side of Eivor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their faces remained close, eye to eye and only centimeters apart. It was like a standoff, a duel to determine which viking lacked the self control to hold off lust for just a few more seconds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor remained unmoved. He uncrossed his arms to place broad hands over the other's, snaking his touch slowly up leather bracers, untucking the buckles from their clasps one by one until they fell, exposing tattooed forearms much like his own. A thumb traced the lines idly, taking note of the sudden pebbling on his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're taking an awfully long time to prove such a bold claim, wouldn't you say?" Over confidence thinly veiled the breathy softness of his voice, coaxing Ivarr to make the first move.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr's impatience tore through the tension and small space between them, taking what he wanted as asserted. Eager hands clasped Eivor's backside, bringing his hips forward against his own. When the drengr tried clashing their lips, Ivarr strategically swiveled his head to Eivor's neck, burying his mouth just underneath his beard, raking his teeth into sensitive skin tinged with the taste of a day's worth of activity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor granted the man access with ease, lolling his head to the side before brushing long braids over his opposite shoulder, urging his rough kiss onto more exposed skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dominant hand found the perfect placement on the back of Ivarr's neck as the other firmly gripped the strap across his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Take this damn thing off." Eivor breathed out, heat climbing up to flushed cheeks as he pulled Ivarr against his body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Me? Do you think this is a gift?" He mocked with lips against bruising skin wet with aggressive affections. Unbinding Eivor's cloak and armor proved to be harder than it looked, but that was no matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't have a problem ripping clothing away if need be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor removed his hands to rapidly pull his armor off, garment after garment falling to the ground they stood on. He kept his eyes on Ivarr's, analysing the way his body was being stripped twice with a leer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The arrogant fool stood back to watch the free show before him with a haughty smirk, the corner of his bottom lip caught between the teeth Eivor desired on his body again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wow. Drengr, skald, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and-</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Ivarr began to produce another of his crude comments but was halted by his new lover dropping to his knees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Shut up and pull it out before I tell everyone you're unable to perform." He resisted the need to rub himself through his breeches in favor of hooking his fingers into Ivarr's waistband, ready to tug them down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The older man grasped Eivor's hands, prying them off his person with authority. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're going to work for it, Eivor."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivarr took his wrists into one hand to hold against his chest, leaving the other to rake calloused fingers through the front of his scalp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor was close to responding to that ridiculous demand when the sudden gentleness of Ivarr's fingers threw him off course. The gesture was appreciated around his hairline where tight braids commonly strained. He dared to close his eyes in comfort for a second too long and suffered the consequences of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr released a low chuckle before clutching the roots he tenderly kneaded just seconds ago and forced Eivor's head to the solid form tenting his trousers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're going to tell my prick how much you want it. Let's see if it'll listen to your "diplomacy." He taunted, waiting to see how Eivor will get this done without hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Norseman angled his head to press neglected lips to the poorly hidden erection. He brushed his nose and mouth to it, mapping out the distinct lines, imagining what it must look like under the fabric he dampened with saliva. Eivor pressed his tongue down on the base to drag it along the now traversed print on Ivar's breeches. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr maneuvered his head back and forth though he truly didn't need to. Eivor clearly could handle himself. The single question of where he procured this appetite bled arousal deep into his stomach where strong, balled fists strained to free themselves of Ivarr's grasp. With a wild smirk, he clutched his wrists tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Someone trained you good, huh? I knew that brotherly code was bullshit but honestly, I don't think he's your type."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The reaction to his returned physical resistance was met with a low groan and glare from Eivor as his lips drew in more air than their target as he pressed them against where he was sure the head was. Without direction, he dragged his tongue down the length then back up to the head pressed against his pelvis, restricted by the garment over it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"To Hel with this." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr was not about to allow Eivor to get up and walk out without tasting more of this, especially not after being shot with a thousand arrows from that stare of steel. Just as he released Eivor's locks to take a blade in response to assumed denial, Ivarr felt teeth on his bare hip and watched them catch his waistband between them, pulling down to expose his erection without struggle. Before he could make a comment, Eivor's lips wrapped around the tip he'd been aching to savor, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing with his tongue pressed flat up against the underside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Gods- Eivor!" Ivarr half laughed in both surprise and pleased amusement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why the fuck does he let you out of his sight?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ragnarsson couldn't help but praise and degrade the man for his enthusiasm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Those arrows aimed for Ivarr's head once again. In a pointed scold, Eivor pulled away from his activity, "I am far from a thrall. His or yours. I lay wh-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Shut up. Shut up, you're much prettier with your mouth on my cock." The words weren't fueled with hostility, only slight annoyance and an overall impatience to feel pleasure once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivarr reached around to fist the long blonde hair again and force himself in between talkative lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can even have these back." He let go of sore wrists to hold both sides of Eivor's head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A gasp transformed into a growl then to something resembling a moan as he splayed nimble fingers over Ivarr's rigid abdomen to slip down his hips. One hand remained to leave fingerprints into his skin while the other had different intentions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr tilted his head back to allow the tongue lavishing his cock to carry him off into a space with the bliss of a battlefield. Upon feeling Eivor's palm on his balls, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to give a glance to the handiwork being done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Spit on it like I disgust you." Ivarr wet his lip with anticipation and a gaze worth a thousand filthy, encouraging words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Easy." Eivor didn't miss a beat to insult the man before spitting hard on the head, using the hand previously on his hip to stroke him slick. One wasn't enough. A slow leak of saliva from the tip of his tongue over the slit eased his hand further. Keen eyes watched every facial expression Ivarr had for him. Any sign of comfort, pleasure, excitement, and even agitation was not lost on the warrior. Taking up contract killing will sharpen these instincts naturally, though who knew just how useful they'd be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor bowed his head back onto the throbbing length, working his mouth to follow his hand as he stroked faster, eventually flattening his palm to the base with Ivarr's cock steadied in the crook of his thumb and forefinger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr bit his tongue and rocked his hips into Eivor's mouth, hard. The wet sound of his throat trying to accommodate his girth can alone drive him to completion if he isn't careful, but while reckless, he is calculated about said recklessness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made sure he felt Eivor gag on him, but he couldn't for the life of him wring out a choke as deliciously satisfying as it would have been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck, Eivor."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor took a deep breath against the underside once Ivarr showed enough mercy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I could say the same given how you're trying to suffocate me." He panted hard against Ivarr's cock, dragging his lips over the shaft to suck off all excess saliva, sending vibrations up the other man he knew he quite possibly hasn't felt in a long time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr laughed through heavy, shaky breaths, "How could I kill you when it's just getting good? Do you think I'm crazy?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You?" Eivor humored him, "Only if you finish before fucking me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He threatened, taking Ivarr's cock in until his bottom lip met his hand at his balls. A skilled tongue joined that hand, caressing the tightened skin as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr's brows drew together, a moan pushing through his mouth without consideration for who may be near. His hips bucked forward into the wet heat Eivor so graciously thrusted upon him, but it needed to stop immediately. He wasn't certain he had much control of his body or if the other had him under a spell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Get off. No, stop." Ivarr pulled the man's head off of his cock, much to Eivor's chagrin seeing how he chased his cock with eager lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're too greedy." He snorted, watching Eivor's somewhat hazy eyes have a difficult time tearing away from the pulsing organ.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And what of it?" Eivor wanted to spit back, though his pride bit back the retort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Done so soon?" He pursed his lips, sighing with an expression akin to pity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, Wolf Kissed, you don't remember how I said I'd take you?" Ivarr seethed with malevolent sounding desire, taking his hand around Eivor's neck and raising him to his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"On all fours," </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor liked this a little too much, the glaze over his eyes with swollen lips and a smile requesting a challenge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He mentally thanked Tyr for the best decision he made all day: to take the leathers off his feet before Ivarr arrived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor snatched the strap across the other's chest forward, bringing their lips together for the first time in a rough embrace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like a bitch in heat."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He breathlessly reiterated against Ivarr's mouth as their tongues and teeth desperately clashed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There isn't any turning away or redirecting his lips as before. Hunger the older man didn't realize existed intensified in his core. Their unsteady breaths pursued one another in the small moments their mouths disconnected. The silk-like, wet slide of their tongues convincing Ivarr he was mistaken to deny this upon Eivor's first attempt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look who's a good listener."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Letting go of his neck wasn't originally his plan but this clothing and armor begged to be discarded, luckily enough, Eivor's hands began working the buckles off along with his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The heavy leathers and fabrics dropped to the ground seconds along with Eivor's trousers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The viking-turned-assasin allowed himself to look over Ivarr's body with a new set of lenses given to him by Freyja herself. A mix of deep and shallow scars decorated his body, telling tales the runes on his stomach couldn't begin to describe, nor did they need to, given the boisterous nature of their beholder. A sinewy chest rose and fell erratically, holding enough temptation inside for the both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor hoisted himself onto the table behind himself and leaned back on his elbows cushioned only by various maps and parchment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr stroked himself slowly with the cooled saliva Eivor generously soaked him in. His teeth grit at the sight of the man positioning himself for something so many deemed disrespectful. The sight of a proud warrior like Eivor succumbing to a filthy act forced his body forward, locking their lips furiously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor hummed to himself with a smirk as he wedged his leg between them and moved Ivarr backward with the ball of his foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Get the oil in the pouch on my waist strap." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He directed low and surely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do you always come prepared to fuck or is this all for me?" He teased, picking up the small leather bag to dig inside for the bottle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivarr popped the top off with his thumb and poured a generous amount onto his hand. By the look on his face, it appeared he misjudged the fluidity of the substance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly set it down on the table to occupy himself with the body before him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rough fingers wrapped around Eivor's length, stroking it just as he did his own, coating it thoroughly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't flatter yourself. I use it for my beard and hair when a tumultuous sea drains moisture thin of all it touches."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His chest arched toward him at the first contact with his erection all night. He thought he would need to finish himself off while being rammed into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor caught Ivarr's lip with his teeth, pulling back before running his tongue across the stinging area, much like the treatment his neck was given many minutes before.The solution flowed slowly over his balls and entrance, making the fine hair on the back of his neck stand in expectancy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you planning to ride me, Ivarr Ragnarsson?" He teased about the generosity he lavished his oiled cock with. Though he questioned it, he slowly rolled his hips in time with his palm, enjoying the steady rhythm he didn't know Ivarr had in him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you fucking kidding me?" The man in question let him go to stroke himselfonce more, adding more oil. "I'm not getting fucked today, tomorrow, or the next day." Using what was left on Eivor, he rested the heel of his palm on his scrotum, giving his fingers perfect ingress to his entrance. Two pushed inside to the knuckle with some strain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You, however, have those days to figure out how you're going to walk." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only signs of discomfort Eivor had to show for the deliberate act of defiance was a stiffening of muscles and a skipped breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pain is no stranger, but two well sized, only somewhat lubricated fingers working him without preparation is a foreign sensation indeed. He stretched around him with resistance, leaning his forehead on the prickling stubble of Ivarr's jawline to pause and breathe comfort into himself while enthusiastic fingers thrusted inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Ivarr smelt mostly of mead, but underneath was something other than fermented barley. He smelt of musk and earth and smoke twined together in an ambrosial parcel. He found his body taking in the scent as an aphrodisiac and his mind wanting it without it's alcoholic cloak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moans escaped him wantonly, letting the sound seep through any opening in the tent, any regard for their surroundings thrown to the wind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr nipped the shell of his ear, kissing the tattoo adorning his shaved side and sensitive skin near his hairline, needing to get his mouth on much more. Working in a third finger with ease and more oil sent a spine melting rush into the blood of the man below him. Of course he knew it would have smoothed their exploits, but watching Eivor brace himself against him, strong thighs tight around his waist and mouth open only with desire was priceless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He soon had the blonde in a moaning mess, blunt nails raking his back and shoulders, hips bucking into his motions as well as he could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ivarr-" Eivor nearly complained in a groan of pleasure, hips writhing to encourage the depth and speed of his fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Eivor?" He smiled like the Christian's devils, knowing what was being requested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do it." Eivor spoke in a shaky growl, demanding hands clasped on flexing shoulder blades and strong thighs squeezing around steadfast hips, drawing his own body closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Tell me." Ivarr insisted, leaning his ear against the man's beard, wanting to be as close to his lips as possible when he heard the words equally fantastic to seiðr.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Lay with me." He weakly whispered, hating how his eager body betrayed his sense of dignity. To give in to such a blatant condescension was not in his sober character.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You know that's not what I wanted." Ivarr will not admit it, but he was quickly succumbing to Eivor's seduction. He wished he'd fight harder, maybe even violently try to take Ivarr himself, anything to get the intense rise out of him, the rise he was used to. Not this. Trapping bodies underneath his weight to reap what is easily sown granted predictable, yet never faltering thrills. If Eivor retaliated he'd be able to explain why he was impossibly enticed by the Norseman around his fingers but no. He was obliging his advances in with some of his own. Grabbing hands, kisses, moans, words of restless want coming from a man covered in muscles and tattoos, a man known to single handedly take on militias if need be. This kind of sex was boring, but not with Eivor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a last second attempt to trigger a fight response, he curled his fingers up and toward himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor only cried out, mouth pressed to dark hair over a closely listening ear. In two slow breaths, he whispered, "Just fuck me, Ivarr."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That is it. Ivarr took Eivor's jaw in one hand, driving him back onto all the maps and letters he would curse about being ruined later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slipping his fingers out and meeting reluctant muscles was a small, delectable precursor to what he was getting himself into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emptying the small bottle of oil out onto his hand and discarding it aimlessly, Ivarr gave himself a few firm strokes then spread the rest on the surface of Eivor's hole. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Watching the other drengr position himself at his entrance was enough to force his heels onto Ivarr's back, urging him into his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor gulped against his palm, head steadied by a firm grip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solid pressure swelled underneath his ribs before dispersing into a heat with ends flaring like the sparks off Thor's hammer and moan loud enough to match.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More than pleased with that reaction, Ivarr paired it with eager thrusts, giving Eivor what he's been tantalizingly asking for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Below him and taking it with all the grace in the world, Eivor took the liberty of swinging a leg over Ivarr's shoulder, peering straight into the beast-like eyes shining back at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hauled Eivor's opposite leg to the same shoulder as the other, repositioning him to penetrate him sideways without disrupting his cadence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do you fear breaking me?" Eivor propped himself on one elbow, lasciviousness soaking behind burnished blues as he groped his own backside to pull himself apart for Ivarr's eyes to drink in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is there reason you handle me with such fragility?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dangerous words juxtaposed his blissed countenance and moans forcing through his chest. There couldn't be one person in the fortress ignorant of their whereabouts save for those too drunk to make the connection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your blood does not fire hot enough embers for either of us, does it, Ivarr? This isn't the rabid hound I signed to ravish me raw un-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr threw Eivor's leg off his shoulder, flipping him onto his stomach and reinserting himself after taking control of taut arms in his hands, holding them back firmly like reigns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hate poetry." He interrupted, thrusting acrimoniously into the pert ass beneath him, getting off on gasps and strings of moans joined with the lewd noises wet skin on skin gave when each blow of his hips was given. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loose strands and pale braids draped over a muscular back adorned with the symbology of the Asier and glory like a curtain of many fine threads. It pleaded for ruin just like the rest of his honorable persona. There was nothing Godly about the position Eivor was in yet Ivarr felt the power of defiling one like a whore, a thrill second only to beheading kings in their own thrones. Only the truly deranged would offer himself to a man like a woman will. Ivarr was in no way the pinnacle of morality, but he knew he'd never put himself in Eivor's position. Despite this, he continued to hold him in high regard, high enough to include him in his legacy should the Gods allow it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This fucking ass is mine Wolf Kissed, hear me!?" He barked, landing a hand hard on his bruising rear and grasping it cruelly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor grinned mid moan, turning his head to watch the man use him. Eyes the blue of the hottest fire were now overtaken by black. For his own amusement, he spat out, "Fuck you, Ragnarsson," voice gruff and jostled from insatiable movement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A wild laughter bellowed from the Ragnarsson. That's what he liked to hear! Without a second thought, he wrapped the blonde braid around his fist and pulled him to the ground, constraining him onto his knees and chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yet you open up your tight hole for me like a steady whore." He commented on his parting thighs and raised hips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Who could blame Eivor? Dirty, rough barebacking with the atmosphere of impending battle filled enough adrenaline for three wars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the process of being handled, his hair came undone, losing two wooden beads during their various positions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"For you? I do this for no one but myself</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Now make yourself useful."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He panted, looking back over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivarr scoffed and fit his thumbs to the small dimples on his lower back, rocking Eivor into his cock to use him like a sleeve before the man took on the role with ease, stroking Ivarr off with himself in smooth, quick strokes. Eivor rocking himself back into him was an unexpected delight, adding his own rhythm and harshness to hit deeper than he could get on his own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Gods Ivarr! More-. Deeper- Ivarr-" Eivor insisted with each obliged command. A throbbing ache pulsed around his cock as his body begged for a friction other than the warm flesh of his stomach. Tending to himself meant the fists anchored onto the earth needed to loosen, something impossible to fathom when that small bit of control is all he has left against submitting entirely to the shamelessness he engaged in with audacious personified. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not many of Ivarr's partners, man or woman, pleaded for more brutality knowing the extent of his capabilities but Eivor was no ordinary partner, was he? Pushing himself farther and farther was in his blood, usually to achieve greater things. In this case, to achieve splendid degradation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His name hanging so freely onto moans and demands made it a crime not to oblige them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Louder, Wolf Kissed. You can do better than that!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cackle rattled out of Ivarr after a hand quickly came down on Eivor's backside, leaving a rouge print made to last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hammering his entire length mercilessly into the drengr, he placed a foot flat on the ground and used the other for leverage, finally hitting a bundle of nerves designed to make a man scream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor gasped, cursing as his forehead furrowed against the long, cold grass with a curtain of loose hair all around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fly agaric is absent in his system and has been for weeks. So what reasons do his mind fog with nothing else but euphoria sweeping the air from his lungs and filling them with Ivarr's name every time he feels the Dane's hips slam into him? All of this from a man lacking the slightest finesse?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Let me admire my work." Ivarr panted with a crooked and satisfied grin. He wasn't speaking of the welts Eivor's back from dull nails or the bruises from teeth and lips, but of the work he'll never forget. The expression of Eivor the Wolf Kissed intoxicated by his raw cock and nothing else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers reached forward to brush the hair from the warrior's face before tightening his fists into the roots, pulling him up, back against Ivarr's chest and turning his head to view the mess he's made of him up close. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor was a sight to behold with glassy lidded eyes underneath knitted brows, flushed cheeks and mouth the color of an early sunset. His hair looked to be a physical display of his mind in disarray.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sexier than a burning church filled with Saxons."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In his unadulterated arousal, Eivor could not compose a witty retort be it a compliment or insult. Instead he forced their lips together hard, biting and moaning into Ivarr's mouth as they kissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you stop I will kill you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no sign of Ivarr slowing in any sense of the word, though the sentence slipped out breathlessly as quickly as it came to mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Promise?" Ivarr teased, moving his hand from Eivor's hip to his straining length. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not stroke, instead he gripped around it like a vice, preventing the other from releasing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No- no don't-" Eivor grasped Ivarr's hand in an effort to remove it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're not coming until I'm finished with you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Truly evil he is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ivrar please-" Eivor's plea was answered in what felt like spite from the Gods as he felt himself fill with heat during a few tent shaking thrusts with little warning besides gravely moans, curses, and breaths. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand around his cock disappeared, encouraging a quickly building release. Shaking knees and heavy, ragged breaths told the other man all he needed to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't stop. Don't you dare, Ivarr." A weak whine threatened before the tight swelling was dispersed. A silent cry beginning with a sharp gasp escaped in time with his ecstasy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Swallowing the soundless orgasm interrupting their aggressive necking was as delectable as the sound of an axe to a skull. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And miss that? No fucking way." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivarr let go of his mate to pull out and stand, once again admiring his work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is no hint of afterglow besides breathless regrouping of their clothing and wits. No tender smiles and touches, no slow caresses of lips and fingers over spent bodies. Nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eivor joined him eye to eye, trying his hardest to ignore the warmth leaking out and down his thigh. He raked his hands through long blonde hair to get the loose strands stuck on his forehead out of his face. Running them through to the ends untangled the wreck the Ragnarsson made if it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, Ivarr, they can say what they like about you, but no one can claim boneless refers to anything but the way you move… in battle, that is. " </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cheeky smirk pulled at the side of his mouth, an expression far less submissive than he displayed only seconds ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're a pretty good fuck too, Eivor."  Ivarr ineloquently reciprocated, patting his shoulder roughly as he passed him to find his discarded clothing. "I'll tell skalds you suck cock like it's a feast from The Great Hall and take it like a God."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wouldn't be the first time a bedfellow likened Eivor's skill to deities and claimed Skalds need write poems of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A shame for such a magnificent blaze to be quenched as quickly as it ignited."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As usual, a boundary was clearly set. This will not be happening again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His armor found its way back onto his body after cleaning up fairly quickly. All he needed to do now was scan the ground for carefully crafted beads and rings Ivarr so courteously have pulled off in their frenzy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Come now, Eivor! What kind of attitude is that? I know you get hot out of snuffing out any excitement, but this too? What are you going to do the next time you see me and you feel tight in your sack?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivarr posed a valid point… in his own opinion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll send for your brother." Eivor teased, easily styling his hair into plaits without giving it a thought. Mischief tangled in his words and expression now that his mind cleared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Even better! We can both plow you!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivarr closed his belt and crossed his arms as he sauntered over, a pensive gaze lingering after sizing him up, the image of the Norseman nude still fresh in his memory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do you say, Eivor?" It was initially a joke though the more it lingered on his tongue, the more appealing it became. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You know where to find me." Eivor flashed a forward grin before slipping out of the tent without another word. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Inside was an envelope not as well kept as others he received before it. It was likely dropped and shoved into a space smaller than its parameters.<br/>Eivor opened it with intrigue. Catching sight of the signature, if one could call the lettering such, all confusion of it's condition faded. </p><p>The letter read: "You better be home by now, WolfKissed. You know me, I am not one for small talk. I told Ubba about our arrangement and the look on his face, well, I'll speak plainly. Prepare your ass in six nights. You're going to need it. Or don't."<br/>Plainly was right.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Many of you asked for a sencond part and I'm here to deliver! When I wrote the first chapter I had little to no intention of adding another chapter but you guys definitely gave me the confidence and incentive! I'm very happy to finally publish this as I had a lot of fun writing it! Thank you all!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raid, kill, usurp, crown, dethrone, kill, sail, run, kill, climb, kill, and kill again. Rest and relaxation cannot find a suitable space in the equation carefully stitched together on the Norns' loom since docking on Saxon shores.<br/>
Eivor will never revoke gratitude for the ongoing success of his clan through their endeavors but a moment to slow the pace would be a saving grace. Luckily Nótt lay gentle hands over tired eyes once his head lay on the mounds of fur in the longhouse.<br/>
Come daybreak, Eivor shunned the light blaring into his bedroom from the doorless entrance across the hall. The will to continue rest dragged heavy on his body though his mind grew accustomed to longer days and nights too short to consider sleep. </p><p>With a groan, he raised himself from the comfortable bedding and habitually scanned his surroundings for signs of tampering or threat. The tension settled aside as his friendly companion entered to greet him, tail wagging and teeming with love.<br/>
"Aw, look at you! How are you, my boy!?" Eivor cooed, bending down to scratch the wolf's scruff and back.<br/>
"Good? I expect no less." He welcomed a hug from his companion as large paws steadied on his shoulders. Long ago animals earned a sacred crop he proudly nourished in his heart. All bitter fatigue is forgotten in the presence of such unadulterated bonds.<br/>
Eivor watched his friend trot away to other ventures then cast his eyes to Sýnin who buried herself into the plume of her breast, perched on a shaded rafter in the room.<br/>
"Rest your wings, my friend. We have more expected of us yet."<br/>
He whispered, fighting the usual urge to pet the dark silk-like feathers. </p><p>Muscle memory led him to the small wooden box beside various belongings on a desk. Inside was an envelope not as well kept as others he received before it. It was likely dropped and shoved into a space smaller than its parameters.<br/>
Eivor opened it with intrigue. No letter of gratitude or invitation would be sent to another in this condition. Catching sight of the signature, if one could call the lettering such, all confusion of it's condition faded. </p><p>The letter read: "You better be home by now, WolfKissed. You know me, I am not one for small talk. I told Ubba about our arrangement and the look on his face, well, I'll speak plainly. Prepare your ass in six nights. You're going to need it. Or don't."<br/>
Plainly was right. It ended with the name and title, Ivarr The Boneless King Killer Ragnarsson.</p><p>Eivor is sure he signed it this way knowing the obnoxiousness of it would draw out an irritated sigh from the warrior.<br/>
Unsure of when the note was written or delivered, he busied himself behind the waterfall beside Valkas hut, bathing and grooming himself.<br/>
Only the Gods know if this was done to oblige Ivarr's letter or simply because it was nearing Saturday, either way he was grateful for it now that the Ragnarssons rode in on horseback that afternoon. </p><p>"Eivor!" Ivarr hopped off the back of his horse, leaving Rowan and Ubba to accommodate both horses at the stable. The older brother greeted with a smug smirk and a tone insinuating a long absence.<br/>
"You're alive! I was starting to worry we'd have to plow Sigurd!" He approached with open arms and no intention to hug the man, crossing them over his chest once he was close enough.</p><p>It is best to avoid the topic of Sigurd altogether for now. The quiet hostility surrounding him did not welcome jokes however harmless. It was uneasy to hear for those who have been in his path as of late.<br/>
"It appears the valkyries have other plans." Eivor mirrored his position and leaned his weight onto a hip.</p><p>"Ivarr." Ubba lightly scolded before grasping forearms with Eivor in greeting.<br/>
"Thank you for inviting us to your home. You've built quite the settlement though I cannot say I'm surprised."<br/>
Compliments flowed easily from the larger man, namely for Eivor. Words of regard and admiration were amongst some of the first he shared with the Norseman.</p><p>"It has been a great effort in both work and politics." Eivor accepted Ubba's honest praise. </p><p>"Enough with the formality. We know why we're here today and it's not to kiss each other's asses." Ivarr interrupted the small talk he mentioned not being fond of. </p><p>"I beg to differ." Eivor flicked a small but flirtatious glance to Ubba when replying to his brother.<br/>
Subtleties in body language spoke more of his interest than his tongue. Though something of a poet, there are times when desire is better left unsaid.</p><p>Ubba wet his lips unconsciously, unable to take his eyes off the warrior with a longing leer. Eivor may come up short in stature and more delicate in appearance than either Ragnarsson, it was clear to Ubba who captained the atmosphere. This dominance attracted him to the Norseman in all his juxtapositions. </p><p>Ivarr's lopsided grin grew upon processing Eivor's cheeky reply.<br/>
"Hear that?" He slapped Ubba's back, encouraging him to move quickly.<br/>
"That's your cue. I'm not going to wait around out here for my job description. It's fucking cold."<br/>
Ivarr walked passed the two and into the longhouse where a fire roared between tables long enough for a proper feast. Rubbing his hands over the fire, he waited.</p><p>Following behind Eivor, Ubba hoped to conceal most of the sudden bashfulness climbing up his neck toward the tips of his ears. Being here again felt strange. It is everything he hoped for the heathen army when they settled but alas, the Gods did not agree. The Norseman untied the heavy rope binding a heavy curtain to the wall over the large opening framing his quarters. It fell behind himself and Ubba, leaving candles the burden of illuminating a vast space.</p><p>Interestingly, Ivarr was finding himself right at home in his former longhouse, welcoming himself into Eivor's bed with feet kicked up and warmed hands resting underneath his head.<br/>
"You're back so soon? You're not going to stand out there batting eyes at each other until your sacks fall off?"<br/>
No irritation slipped around his tongue, in fact, the expression he wore was one of playful amusement.</p><p>"It is said envy is unbecoming, but I believe it suits you like a sword in a sheath." Eivor stepped toward the bedside to stand near the older Ragnarsson, confronting him like he knew he enjoyed.</p><p>"Me? How could I be jealous? Look at me, WolfKissed! I already stuck my sword in your sheath." Ivarr flashed a toothy smile, knowing he could get away with relentless teasing given how well he and Eivor's bodies melded together, like two rivers merging into white waters. </p><p>"You're more than mistaken if you th-" Eivor's back hit what felt like a solid wall at one casual step back. A feather light touch grazed his elbow apologetically, cupping it with a caress. His last thought became lost on him once he was startled, a shame, really. He was looking forward to silencing Ivarr's smart mouth.</p><p>"I didn't mean to startle you." Ubba hushed himself, adding another sympathetic hand to Eivor's waist, feeling the body soon to be entered. On the battlefield he is the kind of warrior who demands submission with an axe, the kind of man who will fight wild animals with bare hands and nothing more. Surely taking someone of his size will come easily, as no pain could amount to wounds he must have endured. He is an incredible figure to behold, to touch like this upon invitation. </p><p>"There's no need." He knew a genuine apology was buried in his word. Eivor turned only his head to study the eyes shared by the other Ragnarsson. They, too, walked the line between the purest frost and sky before Thor beats his mighty hammer. Their impression read differently from Ivarr's, though. They did not heed an unspoken warning or trigger distrust, but instead brought an aura of strength and protection, like a chieftain after encouraging morale to many clans across England. </p><p>Ubba's hands remained as Eivor turned in his grasp, meeting his countenance with a gentle pull at his lips. This man, all power, honor, strength, one who wields weapons as skillfully as words rests in his hands, looking up with expectancy but not urgency. </p><p>Ivarr bit the corner of his lip in anything but arousal. He rose to his knees cushioned by furs to position himself behind the raven bearer. Again, he thought to himself, if he wanted something done, he must do it all on his lonesome.<br/>
Rough hands grasped Eivor's hips and pulled back into his own, riling himself up with an eager tongue and teeth grazing near the edge of a blonde beard. His neck was far too clean for Ivarr's liking as he'd grown accustomed to the sight of it riddled in wet, dark bruises outlined with the pattern of his teeth. </p><p>Eivor resented how pliant his body became in Ivarr's imprudent hands. The frustration nearly aroused him with the need to wrap his fingers around his throat and ride him until he begs for release. It is a cruel fantasy for someone lacking security in oneself enough to consider a receiver less masculine. His head lolled toward his own shoulder, bearing clean flesh for the restless man behind him.</p><p>Ubba slid his hand from Eivor's elbow toward his shoulder, admiring the curves of his person no matter how small. He cupped his bearded jaw to trace the dented scar underneath the Norseman's eye. The intricate adorning his face does not emanate beauty quite as well as the healed gash. </p><p>The space between Eivor's brows furrowed the heavier his breaths became, lips parting and catching between his teeth as quiet moans were suppressed. His expression bled into Ubba's, soundlessly asking permission for something, anything to rival the rousing the other Dane's mouth provided.</p><p>"What are you feeling?" The taller brother leaned his head down to whisper against Eivor's temple, beard brushing his face, coaxing him to answer without shame. </p><p>Ivarr's mischievous smirk might as well imprint itself on the nape of Eivor's neck, again, proud of his brother for his approach, not so happy about how it was done. Ubba was far too intimate with the man. Eivor isn't some maiden with the whitest of sheets awaiting a conscientious drengr to sweep her off her feet. He's a viking! Take what you want and leave your name in its wake. Though the thought crossed Ivarr, it didn't please him either. An unpleasant knot still formed in his gut. Those disturbances were answered with unabashed teeth sinking into Eivor's skin with bruises to go alongside them.<br/>
"So, that's how you're playing with him?" Teasing Ubba only helped temper the boiling of blood in his core. He was cauldron on a low flame ready to burn at the slightest of adjustments. Ivarr kept his voice low, lips mouthing at tattooed skin. Pulling Eivor's long sleeved tunic down over one shoulder, he traced the muscled line at the top of his spine across to the bone of his shoulder. </p><p>Ubba only shot his brother a warning glance. There is no doubt it will not be heeded.</p><p>Eivor ignored the man behind him in favor of Ubba's question.<br/>
"I feel a light heat kindling beneath my chest, its embers flecking low," his lips ghosted the sharp line of his beard and cheek.<br/>
"Deep between the crooks of my thighs."<br/>
With a tone breathy and rich, his body tensed in the points he described, the spots Ivarr slid his palm prepensely toward.<br/>
His touch alone brought this voice from him, one of longing and need.</p><p>"Tell Ubba if he doesn't do something, I'm going to fuck you without him."<br/>
Ivarr dragged his sharp tongue back along his neck toward his earlobe, inciting a quietly hitched moan.</p><p>Eivor did not need to speak for Ubba to know what was being asked. He wouldn't put it past Ivarr to take him without regard for their arrangement, even after he spent some time expressing anticipation for it. </p><p>"No you're not." Eivor denied, head leaning toward a shoulder for the older brother's mouth to traverse the exposed skin of his neck.</p><p>Nerves crept up Ubba's spine the closer he leaned toward Eivor's lips. He was not some woman the two will never see again. This is a well respected man to whom they both view in the highest regard. It's baffling to him how easily Ivarr proposed sex to him in their first encounter without thinking of the repercussions such a relationship could bring. But now he stood in the same position, pining for Eivor's sinewy form to allow his deeply seeded affections.<br/>
Many moons ago confusion and curiosity weaved into the slightly sour emotion beginning to fester when he heard the words, "I plowed WolfKissed like an animal," paired with a smug grin only Loki could conjure.<br/>
Dumbfounded, all Ubba could bring himself to ask about it before his brother laughed was, "Well, was it fine?"<br/>
"I don't know, why don't you try it. He wants a good fuck from both of us. C'mon, Ubba!" Ivarr reached up high, wrapping an arm around massive shoulders. "Like old times! Me and you and a bitch in the middle!"<br/>
Ubba understood Ivarr referenced their past lovers with the slur, but something about the word being used closely by Eivor's name did not sit steadily in his gut.<br/>
"He's not like them, Ivarr." Of course his brother clicked his tongue and looked to him with an emotion somewhere in the center of annoyance and hilarity before explaining his use of the cuss. He didn't mean it in relation to the Norseman per say, but even if he did, what was it to him?<br/>
Now the three stand close in Eivor's bedroom, two already sinking into arousal and one who's nerves slowed his movements.<br/>
Ubba wants this more with every passing second and even more so when Eivor closes the gap between their lips after whispering,<br/>
"Let your body envelop me. Allow your hands to guide me through the words you keep close to your chest for me in the blood wine crevices of your desire." </p><p>Some time during Eivor's persuasion, Ivarr removed the leathers from his person, trousers and all with eager hands encouraging Eivor to do the same as he smoothed rough fingers and dull nails underneath his tunic.</p><p>the Norseman pushed himself into Ivarr, coaxing him to begin grinding his hardened length against his clothed backside.<br/>
He gripped the hip behind him with one hand and his brother's dark plaits with the other. Ubba's palm cradled his head against his own in a passionate joining of touch and tongue. </p><p>Ubba followed Eivor's lips closely, unclasping his own cloak and armor without guidance.<br/>
Confidence rushed to his groin in large waves, kisses becoming more desperate by the second. Heavy fabric pooled behind his feet followed by metals and lighter clothing. </p><p>Ivarr raised Eivor's loosened, disheveled surcoat over his head to discard it elsewhere over his shoulder.<br/>
He took no time in lowering Eivor's woolen breeches underneath the fullness of his ample backside.<br/>
The small chill skimmed Eivor's bare flesh but disappeared once Ivarr grasped two handfuls of him, pressing a familiar erection between the muscles he groped.</p><p>Ubba refused to disconnect their affections composed of breathless lips and wetness circling and caressing one another in hard, feverous motions. Eivor's kiss is just as he is, mouth drawing comfort from others effortlessly. With his tongue he silently beguiled him, reminiscent of the poetry he spun, choking Ubba's thoughts in a rope of impossible materials.</p><p>Eivor raised himself from Ivarr's lap only to finish pulling his breeches off, exposing himself to both men without hesitation. He returned to straddling the older Ragnarsson backward, legs spread by the bruising grasp of Ivarr's fingers digging bruises into his inner thighs.<br/>
His own hands mapped the broad expanse Ubba's chest offered his eyes. Gentle digits smoothed over the dark hair, giving himself the chance to measure the sheer size of him. An ox of a man he is even without the well crafted armor adding bulk. He is all muscle even at his age. It is not uncommon for a drengr but no less attractive. Becoming acquainted with his body quickly climbed his interest as he allowed his palm to graze past his taut abdomen to the hardened swell in his pants.<br/>
Eivor's fingers lay over only some of the length and molded over the curve of its girth when his lashes fluttered open in awe.<br/>
"Gods..." He breathed, stroking the shaft over cloth. Famished is the only accurate descriptor of the glint in Eivor's eyes.</p><p>"Is this fine for you?" Ubba consulted, finding it hard not to feel disrespectful for taking his time making mental sketches of Eivor's own sinewy frame embellished with art, scars, and the dusting of fine, blonde hair. Of his many previous partners, Eivor is not the most muscular or curvaceous, not the tallest or shortest, not the most overtly sexual or chaste. Transcendent is what he is. The more he tasted the more he needed. Touching a man who laid stone and iron across lands, a man who's name may one day challenge his father's in debates between warriors and historians alike. A man like this is no short of celestial. To say his eyes made the sky look banal and dwarfed the depth of the sea is an understatement. His body, his sound contained the secrets of centuries old and centuries to come. How does one pleasure a man like this? </p><p>"He wants your cock in his mouth, Ubba." Ivarr spoke in irritated exasperation.</p><p>As correct as Ivarr was, Eivor did not appreciate the interjection. He leaned his head back onto his sturdy shoulder, "I want your mouth where I cannot hear it."<br/>
Eivor's firm hand combed through Ivarr's two toned locks to grip hard and force his head toward his neck, keeping him busy.<br/>
Teeth sank into his flesh instead of expected sloppy kisses, sucking hard at the aftermath of bruising and beads of blood forming on the well worked skin.<br/>
A deep inhale is all Eivor needed to ease into the sharp tearing of  dull incisors.<br/>
A hand remained on Ubba's thick length as his other tangled into Ivarr's hair like it kept him grounded.<br/>
"May I?" He whispered to the older man, now the only participant with trousers restricting his pleasure.<br/>
Eivor watched his fingers trace and rub the thickness underneath, eyes fogging Ubba's with titillation when his lashes fluttered up for him.</p><p>Ubba's hands worked faster than either of the two men expected, not that his brother was paying much attention now that Eivor continued to rock his hips back and forth, stimulating himself with Ivarr's bold erection.<br/>
The eldest Ragnarsson's hands stopped when Eivor rested his own on them.<br/>
"I said "I." He nearly laughed. Not because he mocked his mistake, but because his nerves charmed him..<br/>
Eivor, having undressed a drengr or two, finished untying the leather loops with haste. Slowly, he peeled the waistband over his hips, not taking his sight off the stiff, pulsing sex. It's color alone described all he wanted to do with him.<br/>
"Ivarr, get the oil."</p><p>"Fucking finally! Wh-"</p><p>"Where it was before. In the pouch." Eivor slid off his lap, encouraging him to move quickly.</p><p>"You should have showed him your cock earlier." Ivarr snorted, rustling through the leather bag he's growing to like the sight of. "Is this a-" he mumbled to himself, finding a tooth and dropping it back in. The bottle was a different color this time, but similar in size and shape. Either way, it's his ticket to a rough fuck and massive orgasm. </p><p>Both men ignored his rummaging.<br/>
Eivor sat closer to the edge as he wrapped his hands around Ubba's shaft, both hands accommodating his length. Eivor's pulse hastened to the realization his fingers and thumbs could not connect around its girth. He intended to take it in bit by bit then all at once. Hard.</p><p>Ubba closed his eyes upon the touch of firm hands twisting, stroking, warming his sex with clear experience.<br/>
Eivor's lips brushed over the small slit, urging him to fix his gaze again. His cock could not be any more flush at the sight of the Norseman's inviting gestures.<br/>
Ubba combed through loose blonde strands as if they were gossamer, adjusting some behind his ear and shoulder. </p><p>Tenderness.<br/>
Flame and sea these brothers are. Eivor found comfort in the broadened hands caressing his scalp while his tongue slowly circled the head inside the heat of his hollowed cheeks.</p><p>Ivarr had half a mind to comment on how Eivor is going to blow Ubba's mind before they blow his back out, but alas, this appeared to be a moment for him oddly enough. He respected the Hel out of Eivor but during this too?<br/>
Ivarr swallowed his impatience and joined with the intention of making their lives easier, a rarity in its own right.<br/>
"You're lucky I'm doing this, man." He refrained from telling his brother as he approached, oil in hand. Yes, this is all happening because he is giving Ubba permission to fuck Eivor just this once. Once and nothing more.<br/>
"Get on the bed, both of you. This position isn't going to work for me."<br/>
He gestured to them to follow, like an owner might to their cattle... affectionately in Ivarr's sense of the word. </p><p>Eivor had his tongue flat against the underside of Ubba's length when he flashed Ivarr an unimpressed glare, yet he straightened, making room on the bed for his partners.<br/>
Once the three readjusted themselves, his roots once again suffered iron grip through tentatively constructed plaits.<br/>
Instinct connected his palm to Ivarr's throat, the sensation still surging spine shuddering pulses through his limbs.<br/>
They shared ravenous leers toward each other, Eivor with a smiling bitten lip and hazy eyes, and Ivarr with the lopsided grin of a predator toying with its food before tearing it apart.<br/>
"Lay beside Ubba."</p><p>From the black of his eyes Ivarr knew Eivor's gears turned, charged by nothing but intense craving.<br/>
Without protest, he leaned back beside the Ragnarsson's younger brother, waiting for the moment Ubba will finally lose himself in this gift he shared.<br/>
"Make it good, WolfKissed." He heeded, propping himself on his elbow for a clear perspective of Eivor's rounded backside as he prostrated himself between the two, each leg between theirs.</p><p>"Make it last, Ivarr." The Norseman replied classically with a rejoinder.<br/>
He encircled Ubba's length with agile fingers and held his palm out to the other without a word. He didn't need to. Within seconds Ivarr swiftly provided a healthy amount of saliva into Eivor's hand. Just as with Ubba, he began stroking, slicking Ivarr with himself and warning a cockily satisfied chuckle. Both men grew harder in his hands, impressed with his coordination to pump two quickly at once.</p><p>Ubba's mouth curved into the crooked smile shared by his brother.<br/>
"Always quick witted." He praised in a heavy breath before watching Eivor trace the underside of his shaft with his lips, breathing heat onto his sex, the flat of his tongue soon following the pattern in long, languid strokes. It was not long until he took pleasure in filling his mouth with the pulsing organ. The pressure of hollowed cheeks and a skilled tongue forced Ubba to wrestle with a raw need to plunge into the back of his throat. Swollen lips knew no end to their hunger it seemed. Watching him wantonly make a mess of his own saliva over his hand and beard only encouraged the rising desire to tear him in two. </p><p>Ivarr's core effortlessly rocked his thrusts Eivor's fist in rolling waves, trying to buck away seething anger. A keen stare fixed onto the head swiveling and swallowing around a large cock, lips sucking tightly and surely encouraging religious visions given the sounds escaping his brother's throat.<br/>
He brushed blonde strands aside for a better view, remembering what it felt like to be on the other end of it, how he should be on the other end of it.</p><p>The lack of pain on his scalp after being touched by Ivarr made his lashes flick open to glance in his direction. His hair smoothed with Ubba's ginger touch, his head leaning back in a bliss unspoken.<br/>
The potency of his gaze on Ivarr's as his tongue remained preoccupied stirred something visceral inside told by the sudden reach forward, gripping into Eivor's roots again. </p><p>"Ivarr-" Ubba nearly scolded but bit his tongue as he watched his brother force Eivor's head deeper. A sharp moan pushed past his lips, feeling aggression and vigor from his brother's effort to handle Eivor's pace. </p><p>Refusing to cough or gag, Eivor clutched Ivarr tighter in retaliation and relaxed his throat, following the movement being laid out for him.<br/>
Breath filled his lungs once he was pulled off of Ubba's sex, face flushed, lips coated generously in saliva. Glassy eyes glazed over in exhaustion and euphoria met Ivarr's animalistic leer. </p><p>"See, Ubba. He's no maiden in white sheets.. Make him sweat, fuck him like a real vikingr." And be done with it, he thought to himself. Ivarr released Eivor, knowing exactly what he'd do next.</p><p>"I don't need to be tawdry to give a good plow."<br/>
The younger refuted, quite liking how receptive Eivor is to tenderness and returning it with his own delicate intimacies.</p><p>"You say that, but you can't tell me it didn't feel like getting your prick wet in Valhalla!"</p><p>Eivor's eye roll came far too quickly after Ivarr spoke. The norseman wiped the wetness from his lips and pumped Ubba steadily with it, giving one last sloppy affection to the head before mouthing at the other's in a zealous kiss. Eye contact ensured Ivarr did not think there was a chance for him to suddenly assume assertion, at least not in the beginning. </p><p>Ubba ultimately agreed with his brother yet cursed him for it. It is painful whenever the man proves himself right.<br/>
Craning up to run his hand down Eivor's damp, arched back, he focused on the concentration it must take to suck a man off so tentatively and maintain another with his palm consistently.<br/>
"You're so good, Eivor." Warmth flooded Ubba's chest from the small hum of gratitude and comfort Eivor produced when touched.<br/>
He watched every flex under the man's inked skin on his way down, not shy to take a handful of the fullness taunting him for some time now. </p><p>Another moan rumbled low in his throat as he began ravaging Ivarr's cock in salacious hunger. He parted rosy lips, allowing Ivarr to trace their shape with himself.<br/>
Eivor darted his tongue out when his need took hold, then began to suck bruises into the skin of it, watching Ivarr's expression contort from arousal to pain to desire again, hips struggling to remain pinned to the fur beneath him. </p><p>Ubba laid his fingers over Eivor's, stopping his stroke before running the rough pad of his thumb over his knuckles.<br/>
Repositioning himself between the backs of Eivor's spread calves, Ubba fondled the curves of muscular thighs, working himself up to his behind.<br/>
It takes acute composure to resist a sight like this, he thought. Understanding his brother's eagerness was easy now. It'd be difficult to find a woman well enough to wed this devine of a man. She'd need to be capable of retaining jealousy of and for Eivor. Brilliance like this is unmatched, his mind spun thoughts of praise as his hands wandered over his back, down his hips, and against the firm swell of his backside, grasping the supple flesh to spread and squeeze as he pleased. All the breathless moans escaping the Norseman reassured the quality of his physical admiration. </p><p>Eivor pushed back into Ubba's palms in time with the flow of his head over Ivarr's length. Lips closed tightly around him, chasing his hands on the way up and down. The audible reactions Eivor encouraged out of himself and his partners spoke of his libidinousness, evoking excitement beyond what either man expected. </p><p>The sound of saliva thick on flesh being sucked and used pushed Ubba to drive his erection between the cheeks he groped freely. A surge of intoxication carried a stroke driven by powerful thighs. The image of this great a size sliding over the hole he has yet to prod was enough to work up a sweat on his brow. </p><p>Ivarr groaned through closed lips as he pulled Eivor off of him by his hair once again.<br/>
"Come here." He ordered with a grin, knowing he'd be throwing Ubba off for a moment. How inconvenient for him, he supposed without empathy. </p><p>"This again?" He panted, scoffing at the possibility of Ivarr finishing soon should he continue to pleasure him.<br/>
Eivor swiveled his hips back into Ubba, enjoying every bit the thoughts the two unknowingly shared. </p><p>"You just don't shut up, WolfKissed." Ivarr shook his head and jerked Eivor toward himself, feeling the heat of the other pressed against him.</p><p>"Some introspection on that will do you some good." Catching his breath, Eivor rested his forehead to the side of the older Ragnarsson's neck, body grinding into both brothers on either end. </p><p>"You just like hearing me talk, don't you?" He joked with a vague honesty embedded.<br/>
"You want me to tell you how hard you're going to get fucked? How raw your ass is going to feel after two cocks? That's the kind of nasty shit you like to hear, huh, Eivor?"<br/>
Ivarr didn't pay any mind to his volume as he growled through grit teeth, lips brushing the Norseman's temple. Heavier breaths could be felt on his collar, ghosting over his chest as he humiliated him in front of Ubba. </p><p>Those familiar scents of fire, earth, and the churning of smoke in the air tangled itself around his senses, creating a fog not unpleasant enough to want cleared. It reminded him of the stories he's heard of prurient drengr taking one another in the heat of battle, blazes around and blood smeared across their bodies like a berserkers lubricant. The idea never appealed to him until this moment.<br/>
"I think," Eivor shivered, skin pebbling at the sudden friction against his ass.<br/>
"you arouse yourself." He held himself up on his elbows, peering into the smug stare Ivarr wore almost religiously.</p><p>"How could I not?" Ivarr's confidence irked Eivor, making him all the more compelled to flaunt it, especially when he knew the younger man wanted to lock their lips furiously. There was something about that with WolfKissed, the need for sentimentality no matter how small even in situations as carnal as this.</p><p>It shamed Ubba to admit the sharp spike in arousal once Ivarr began taunting Eivor, but no one would give a damn, in fact, it is likely welcomed by Eivor if not by Ivarr himself.<br/>
He reached to the closed bottle set aside and uncorked it.<br/>
"Eivor,"</p><p>He thought not to break eye contact with Ivarr, but decided against it. Looking over his shoulder, Eivor nodded, a softness in his eyes he never has when looking at the other Ragnarsson.<br/>
"You're ready?" It was obvious to Eivor Ubba was more confident than this in bed. From the stroke of his thrusts to the way he navigated his body that much was clear.<br/>
He only hesitated out of respect, doing so as if the two were lovers having their first lay together. Frankly, Eivor has only been treated with such mindfulness by one other he shared a patch of grass with.<br/>
He straightened himself onto his knees and pressed his lips to Ubba's over his shoulder<br/>
Their kiss was slow, passionate even. His hand reached back for his thigh, the large muscle reminding him of just how massive the man is.<br/>
"Use as much as you need,Ubba. You won't break me." He teased gingerly.</p><p>Ubba felt he was in a perpetual state of flush. Eivor is roughly 20 years his junior yet he cannot begin to process the elusive sensation he currently experienced.<br/>
He entangled their lips once more, ample arms engulfing the other from behind. The hum of content vibrating through their kiss eased the bashfulness he struggled to swat away. </p><p>Eivor never felt a need for safety from anyone or anything other than armor and weaponry, though with the wall of a much larger man behind him, leaning down to share his sensuality through tenderness, he formed comfort around it. While the scent of leather still clung to him, fresh sweat, stone, and a familiar earthly aroma was far greater. He basked in the rare chastity for as long as he could, all smooth kisses and fingers slowly massaging one another. Moans streamlined into Ubba's mouth soon after.<br/>
Nimble hands from the eldest caressed Eivor's thighs until they found his cock, pumping him languidly from below.<br/>
He glanced at Ivarr momentarily, starting to buck into his fist, in turn stroking Ubba himself again with the gyration of his hips.<br/>
With yearning lips grazing the corner of the younger brother's lips, he whispered for him and only him, "Write the skald I will sing of your name alone. Imprint the touch, the force of you inside my body and unto my burning flesh. Melt two into one as I yearn for you, Ubba."<br/>
Evior flowered his tongue with enough nectar for the man to taste in their next breathless kiss. </p><p>A voice like satin, no, like the finest furs. Tough, warm, silk to the ear and lips golden to the touch. The blonde beard caressed the line of his neck, leaving small, rose colored bruises along the way.<br/>
Ubba released Eivor's waist from his arms, taking the translucent bottle to pour into a palm. The other set the re-corked glass on the cushions beside his brother.<br/>
Thick fingers cupped the softness of Eivor's end, the middle digit slipping in between to the sensitive strip of skin below his hole.<br/>
"Your words are whispered to you by Freyja, Eivor."</p><p>Ivarr watched the two speak quietly to one another, like they had secrets more intimate than their nude bodies flush against each other.. Green vines grew from his stomach into his chest, blooming the fruits of fire in his throat.<br/>
Sitting up, he wedged an arm between the two men's bodies and took their partner down to bend forward onto his body again.<br/>
"I smelt a conspiracy against me." He joked, unwilling to admit the selfish knot beginning to untangle itself. </p><p>"Your sense of smell is unreliable." Eivor panted, a furrowed brow leaned loosely against Ivarr's.<br/>
"Is your palate any worse?" Moans stringing together as a finger circled his entrance, pushing the tight ring of muscle open with only a slick digit. </p><p>Ivarr mentally thanked their Goddess for how much more pliant their drengr becomes the longer he's toyed with. The transition from sensual to venereal took too damn long but he had to admit, the shuddering breathlessness, the smooth roll of his body rivaling his own, the enticing expressions driven by pure carnal instinct made it well worth the painstaking wait.<br/>
Gripping Eivor's jaw, he roughly turned his head, pressing his tongue hard and flat against the crook of his neck and shoulder, dragging it up and over the kiss-created impressions he and his brother so generously gave. The mild taste of sweat and little else but Eivor himself spoke volumes of his preparedness to be fucked long and well into the hours of the night. Little did he know it was only coincidental. The wet muscle made its way over the groomed beard to gratuitously parted lips. Ivarr did not expect to taste the others' tongue but was not about to complain.<br/>
"Much better." He answered Eivor's long forgotten question. </p><p>Eivor trembled around an added finger, taking in a sharp breath only to exhale a soft groan. Ubba's gentle thrusts quickened the easier it became to fill him, stretching him comfortably and spine shudderingly so. His length stroked both himself and the man below him, creating a friction both gratifying and raw.<br/>
"My G-'' he whined to himself quietly, irritation building as Ivarr successfully evaded every attempt to join their lips. The eldest Ragnarsson is the only man ever to keep him on his toes between the sheets, how bothersome. Gripping the sides of Ivarr's head, he whipped axes into the icy stare with his own.<br/>
"You're going to kiss me and you're going to kiss me with unrelenting abandon, Ivarr."<br/>
With that, he pressed their mouths hard against one another, all teeth, pants, and tongue. He bit the older man's bottom lip, pulling before sucking and returning to map every little detail of his mouth for himself.<br/>
His own tongue was met with the same treatment followed by sloppy, unforgiving kisses to his lips and tongue. A small tinge of copper bled into their affection, likely from how often they bore their teeth over the frenzied kiss.</p><p>Ivarr's hands unapologetically reached behind Eivor to grasp his ass, groping him much to Ubba's viewing pleasure. He liked keeping his eyes open through a fraction of their activity. To ignore the sight of Eivor's arched back curving to his supple behind, especially as he is being fingered open, would be more damning than a combination of the war crimes he's committed. Much less, he'd hate to miss how the undefeated Eivor WolfKissed crumbled in the hands of the equally (mostly) undefeated Ragnarssons, but honestly, it could have been any other man of the other end and he would have still enjoyed the warrior's descent as he's fucked roughly by two cocks.<br/>
"Ubba! Whatever the fuck you're doing back there, keep doing it! fucking Hel, look at this mess!"<br/>
He taunted, slapping their partners backside hard with both hands before continuing to spread him. </p><p>Ubba smirked knowing Eivor was enjoying his treatment. He didn't need his brother or anyone else to reassure him. Eivor's haughty moans and whines could be heard just fine, not to mention how well he's urging three thick, oiled fingers inside, working himself back into him.<br/>
Now, Ubba pulled them out slowly, replacing his fingers with his slick length. It almost dwarfed Eivor's supple backside. He fixed himself between him, preparing the man beneath him for what he knew would take a bit of courage and elbow grease from the Norseman. His eyes darted from Eivor's hole to the rest of his body and back, analysing his movement to determine how deeply he can begin with. Ubba pressed the head to his entrance, getting a feel of the resistance. Plenty of oil soaked where the two were soon to be joined, helping him along. His intense gaze burned into Eivor, analysing every little sound for a cue to cease.<br/>
As soon as a hum resembling the most erotic moan he has ever heard reached his ears, the ring of muscle circling his tip became all the more inviting. Being inside Eivor was a blessing enough, but to listen to him love every second likened to a religious experience. A broad hand steadied the man before him, firmly planted below his back as the other held his hip. Ivarr holding their mate open and groping, while distracting, was helpful.<br/>
He watched Eivor nestle himself into the other man's neck, his hand now cradling the back of Ivarr's head as the other gripped his shoulder.<br/>
For a few moments he nearly grew the same green vines inside his chest his brother nurtured.<br/>
While grateful for his prying hands, he would have appreciated if Ivarr held Eivor instead, stroking his hair and rubbing his back in small circles asking if he's okay, if he's enjoying himself comfortably, if he feels cared for in his arms. </p><p>Eivor gasped, a smile forming toward the end of it just as he had when he received Ivarr for the first time. He glanced over his shoulder and raised his hips for Ubba, inviting him to deepen himself. </p><p>"Prepare him for me and fuck him open, Ubba " Ivarr rushed, wanting his turn to come sooner than later, especially when he believes he's the one entitled to this body. He was beginning to believe Ubba was overstaying his welcome. Not Eivor's welcome, of course, but his own.<br/>
Slipping a hand between himself and Eivor was easy enough now that his brother held his hips higher.<br/>
A palm circled Eivor's erection, stroking rather quickly in contrast to Ubba's careful touch.<br/>
Ivarr grew that wild smirk upon hearing his name moaned in surprise.<br/>
"I'd be pissed off if I was fucking his ass and he called some other bastard's name." He laughed as his lips attached to Eivor's shoulder, his eyes fixed on the younger Ragnarsson like a threat.</p><p>"Again, you flatter yourself. Ubba is pleasing me plenty in his tenderness. You only took me by surprise." Eivor breathed, looking back at Ubba again apologetically. He slowly rocked himself back against him, moaning with every deepening buck the man behind him offered. </p><p>"I'm about to take you by surprise if he doesn't fuck the hell out of you within the next year." Ivarr scoffed, his eyes focusing on Eivor's lips and the sounds he produced simply from Ubba's girth.<br/>
With his hands firmly gripped on Eivor's ass, he repositioned his thumbs to the front of his hip bones and guided his stroke onto Ubba roughly. He rocked his body back and forth knowing what Eivor could and couldn't take. What he was doing with Ubba was child's play. Fuck like a man, he'd criticize. </p><p>Ubba was the one taken aback now, fire ablaze between his legs like a torch on oil. The deeper his length ventured the tighter Eivor wrapped around him. Suddenly he felt him all at once, almost entirely inside of a man hyperventilating in between shamelessly loud moans all of which contained the names not belonging to him. His drive matched Ivarr's speed, strength surpassing it given his position. Containing himself was no longer an option because like Ivarr, once the horse was out of the gate there's little one could do to stop it. </p><p>"Ivarr! Gods! Shit- Oh my-" Eivor refused to surrender, his panting groans sounding almost like a scold before seamlessly threading into uncontainable ecstasy. Being handled like this, he almost felt used and humiliated yet he wanted more, more of this feeling he simultaneously loathed and loved. </p><p>"See, I'm not all bad, WolfKissed. Now Ubba's giving you something to scream about, huh!?" The older Ragnarsson kissed Eivor's cheek with a loud hum and smack of his lips, taunting how desperately the other was trying to regain the capacity to speak anything other than babbles of insatiable lust. </p><p>"Let-" Eivor betrayed his body's appetite, "Let go, Ivarr." He spoke between heavy moans.<br/>
Surprisingly, the warmth of Ivarr's hands left his body immediately though he continued to grind upward, their slick lengths rubbing against one another in endless heat.<br/>
Now he was free to do as he pleased, riding Ubba's powerful thrusts himself.<br/>
"You're- You're massive-" Eivor's fogged mind could produce little else but thoughts of the length inside him hitting so closely to the madness inducing nerves.<br/>
"Ubba, Ubba yes- yes! Gods yes-" He breathed and cried with vigor, finally voicing his name as he said he would. </p><p>Ubba leaned down, reaching an arm around Eivor's chest, large body completely blanketing his form. He whispered the warrior's name through groans of arousal. Lips adorned the bare side of Eivor's head, occasionally kissing the shell of his ear, longing for the man's affections. His stroke rivaled his brother's in strength and speed, reminding the other of their relation though separating the two became harder as the evening went on.<br/>
"Eivor..." The name tasted sweeter with every passing moment, and like honey laden mead, just as intoxicating. </p><p>Eivor struggled to speak over his silent moans and pants, but as soon as the opportunity struck, he caught Ubba's lips in his own, sharing the passionate kiss to ease their restless desire for a touch impossible to find on a battlefield, in a mead hall, or the barracks.<br/>
The muscular structure of Ubbas body contained their warmth and for a second he forgot Ivarr was underneath, working him close to orgasm. Only for a second.</p><p>"Off. Off. If he finishes before I fuck him I'll kill both of you." Ivarr wasn't serious of course, but he will never live it down if Ubba robbed him of a proper orgasm.<br/>
"WolfKissed, get on your back on the edge of the bed. I'd fuck you against the wall but we have to play fair here, Ubba." There it was, the green embedded in every word.<br/>
"Ubba, you'll figure yourself out." Without instructions, Ivarr had faith in his brother to pleasure himself more aggressively in this position. It was nearly impossible to sweetly perform anything with what Ivarr intended. </p><p>Eivor hummed in dissatisfaction upon the sudden emptiness. His face said it all, brows knitted together, lips pouting before glaring at Ivarr without true anger behind his glazed eyes.<br/>
Despite the interruption, Eivor could not be upset. Ivarr knew his way around pleasuring him and for that, he obeyed, masking his eager curiosity with a seemingly begrudging expression. Once Ubba's body left his own, he climbed off the older man to lay back, head nearly off the edge. </p><p>Ivarr adjusted Eivor's head off the side to hang back, long blonde tresses grazing the floorboards.<br/>
"Don't make that face, I'll go soft and you'll have to blow me twice as long."<br/>
Grabbing a bundle of furs used as a pillow, he raised the Eivor's hips and slid the material underneath, propping his lower body up.<br/>
With his hands on the drengr's knees, he spread them open to fit his body in between, taking no pause before holding him by the waist and plunging right in.<br/>
"Like wetting my blade in the neck of a king." His compliment is one of high praise, yet Eivor barely heard a thing.</p><p>The swelling Ubba created worked his muscles raw. Eivor's moan upon Ivarr's initial thrust bordered a shout, something he was sure his current partner intended to hear.<br/>
His body tensed and trembled, blood rushing to his head and erection leaving him lightheaded and high with delight.<br/>
"By Odin- Ivarr, you- how-" How did he know the perfect angles to rail him into the realm where dining with Asier is commonplace?<br/>
"Fuck-" he choked out, back arching high as calloused, war torn hands raked short nails down his chest hard enough to welt the defined ink riddled muscle.</p><p>Ubba diverted his attention away from his brother's tawdry acts and stood over Eivor's head. He nearly jumped when he was circled with a sturdy grip and stroked toward his mouth, tip smoothing over wet lips and throbbing tight when touched by Eivor's entrancing vocal display, hot breath teasing his shaft with every moan.<br/>
"Eivor,"<br/>
Ubba brushed along his jaw with the pads of his thumbs, feeling the long, braided anchor of hair he already missed against his own. </p><p>Eivor's tongue worked him from below, not caring about the taste of herbal oils if it meant he could have the well endowed man in his mouth. He reached up to grasp Ubba's muscular backside and pull him closer, granting himself access to his balls and giving them the same passionate treatment he generously lavished his length with. </p><p>"C'mon, WolfKissed! I've seen you scale walls the size of Ubba. Put your damn legs into it!" Ivarr complained with Eivor's thighs in his clutches, driving the man hard into the furs he placed under him.<br/>
"Shit!" The familiar sly cackle vibrated high in his throat. He rewarded their mate with a few slower, harder thrusts upon feeling Eivor circle his neck with sinewy calves, locking his ankles behind the older man’s head.<br/>
Ivarr nearly always found himself more than satisfied with Eivor's retaliation to criticism, knowing he’d go above and beyond to prove himself not only to the one ignorant enough to make such a statement, but to himself. This stubbornness worked in his favor, the joining of their sex deepening to the hilt.<br/>
Ivarr hooked his hands around Eivor’s ribs, slamming himself into the backs of his thighs roughly enough to leave welts stinging as sharply as the red scrapings across his chest. </p><p>Ubba braced himself on either side of Eivor’s broad shoulders, making up for his towering build over the other. The man's throat closed in around him, shaft painfully swelling for a release.<br/>
His fogged gaze watched the outline of himself bucking into Eivor's throat with every wet, lewd sound one could make with a mouth so full.</p><p>Eivor pulled himself off with a gasp for breath, his hand still pumping fast and hard while thick saliva collected on his lips connected their skin. Swirling his wrist, he sucked and licked the wetness clean off the before filling his mouth with Ubba's heat colored tip, sucking and tonguing the underside over a sensitive nerve toward the slit. As his head bobbed, he opened his tearing eyes to finally look at the younger Ragnarsson, who duly adhered himself to the side of his head for a clearer view. </p><p>Quivering pulsations rocked Ubba's core, imploding and exploding all at once. Never has his body been met with such impassioned fervor, or at least it feels like it has not. Eivor's touch is not like a working woman from a mead hall or even a lover. He is something exceptionally ethereal, an absolute dream of a warrior, adventurer, skald, executor and creator. No seer could predict the presence of someone so noble, so….polarizing.<br/>
"Eivor, Hel, Eivor-"<br/>
Salacious stares locked into one another, sealing their intimacy with the finest dyed twine. </p><p>Eivor's flushed countenance twisted in confusion when his mouth was suddenly empty. His hand still wrapped firmly around him, jerking him back and forth until he felt the thick fluid on his face. Automatically his lips parted to catch whatever Ubba allowed him to on his tongue with some avail. </p><p>"For fuck's sake, Ubba!" Ivarr huffed, throwing up his hands and stopping his stroke.<br/>
The scene in front of him was tormentingly enticing as it was infuriating. Eivor's rosy cheeks, beard, and swollen lips wore his brother's spend. Droplets fell onto his chest, rising and falling with the supple muscle underneath. Eivor looked incredible, but…<br/>
"We just got off our damn horses and now you came all over the face I was going to fuck. Fuck your fist if you can't plow." He pointed to the thick curtain hanging over the door frame adamantly.</p><p>"That's not my problem, Ivarr.<br/>
He doesn't seem to mind mess, do you, WolfKissed?" Ubba smirked, knowing his answer but asking either way to give Eivor the opportunity to speak his piece. A clammy palm cupped Eivor's jaw, thumb wiping away some of the white, sticky fluid and touched the lips already coated in him. Both Ragnarssons watched as Eivor gladly cleaned Ubba's offering before wrapping his lips around his thumb for a final suck.<br/>
"He knows I don't mind. No need to posture."<br/>
Eivor sat up, unwrapping his legs from Ivarr's shoulders to lean in close, their lips separated by only breath.<br/>
"Jealousy clouds your eyes and coils around your tongue like frayed thread on a spool knowing I wear a man sharing your su-"<br/>
A grunt befell him when he was taken by the throat, pinned, then flipped in a matter of seconds.<br/>
Surely it could have been prevented, but Eivor preferred to play the long standing game of push and pull he and Ivarr entertained themselves with. </p><p>Ubba tensed watching his brother mercilessly handle their partner. Both Ragnarssons clutched tightly, knuckles white with force though Ubba grasped fur and Ivarr grasped the nape of Eivor's neck.<br/>
"Ivarr enough."</p><p>The scold was cutting enough to wipe the arousal from the restrained man's face.<br/>
Before Eivor could snuff the flames Ivarr's condescending laugh ruptured. </p><p>"Look around, will you? Let me know when you find your balls." His older brother dragged his tongue up the length of Eivor's spine, feeling the flesh raise underneath. A shivering moan sounded quietly from the other warrior, his back arching at the wet heat.<br/>
"He likes it. Try it. Slap him around."</p><p>"Don't." Eivor glared behind himself as best as he could.<br/>
"Ubba, I'm no stranger to your brother's idiocy. You underestimate me." In an instant he tucked his legs underneath himself, lifting his body with the strength of his thighs and slamming Ivarr backward onto the furs.<br/>
"I am not one you need to worry for." His smile was kind, empathetic almost. </p><p>Ivarr grappled Eivor's waist from underneath him, throwing his weight to force them both on their sides. He pried the younger's knees apart from behind, wedging his leg in between.<br/>
"And I'm performative, WolfKissed?"<br/>
Ivarr slid himself back inside, picking up right where he left off. With one hand on his hip and the other around the front of his throat, he hammered into Eivor, getting what he knew he was owed. Ubba can watch all day if he liked, as long as he understood who knew this body, who owned this body in the hours echoing with shouts and songs of names referring only to Ivarr the Boneless.</p><p>Ubba pressed his tongue into his cheek and laid beside the trembling, melting mess that was Eivor. Again he caressed the clean line joining his cheek and beard, watching the reactions of a man perpetually on the edge of orgasm. Eivor's gritty huffs and soft groans would play at inappropriate times in Ubba's life, he was sure of it. The echoes of his sex bounced off the stark wood, creating a chamber of the alluring sound all around the room. Ubba loved Eivor's battle cry, the sound before limbs and steel flew at rates he had seen only his brother and father execute in their younger years. A living legend howling into the face of death daily lay beside him arching, moaning, gasping, toes and fingers curling like any man in his position would. He lay vulnerable and unbothered between two of the fiercest drengr to ever live, tangling their limbs into his own knowing they were his toys within these walls. Strength radiated through his naked skin despite how lovely, how gingerly his body accommodated the two men.<br/>
Ubba closed his eyes, leaning his forehead to Eivor's as their noses brushed.<br/>
"You're a valkyrie in the flesh." He whispered between their lips before closing the space between them, a hand reaching low to stroke Eivor's neglected erection. </p><p>"He rides like one too. You have to see it. Maybe later, Ubba, if you don't cum like a boy grabbing tits for the first time." Ivarr teased, panting against Eivor's shoulder as he held one of his legs up by the crook of his knee. </p><p>Both Ubba and Eivor ignored Ivarr's crass comments in favor of feeling one another in their kiss.<br/>
As teeth and tongue created patterns on the sculpt of his back, Eivor bucked into Ubba's rough palm slick with remnants of their makeshift lubricant. Ubba, Ivarr, Ivarr, Ubba, Ivarr, Ubba, the breath carrying out typical eloquence caught on the hitches of their names, merging them on his tongue until their flavors matched 2 shades of the same color.<br/>
"Yes, Gods, yes- You're..so.."<br/>
The rest of his moan left with smoke in its wake, leaving the Ragnarssons to guess who is "so" or assume in favor of their ego.</p><p>"What's that, Eivor?" Ivarr mocked in a ragged chuckle, working himself hard into Eivor's self fulfilling grind, taking the chance to speed his own stroke to his liking, fingers digging into his branded neck. </p><p>Eivor's jaw fell lax midst sloppy, passionately deconstructed kisses, his moans taking the cadence of being roughly jostled. Thinking was a chore he was not prepared for in moments like these.<br/>
"Hard- Harder-" he choked out in a groan, turning his head to try catching Ivarr's lips on his own, of course, fruitlessly so.<br/>
An agitated whimper only lasted for as long as Ubba allowed it. The younger Ragnarsson pulled Eivor's lip with his teeth before reinviting his tongue. The man could barely kiss in his exasperation, climax rising over crumbling composure. </p><p>"Cock will be the end of you one day, WolfKissed." Ivarr's crooked smile grew as he pulled out with much resistance from Eivor's begging form.<br/>
Kneeling, he straddled one of their mate's thighs and hooked the other over his shoulder, remembering how delightfully lost in it the other became when fucked sideways. </p><p>If Eivor couldn't speak then, it was close to impossible now. Every moan sounded like the very earth beneath them shook. The rigid wood stabilizing the structure the man laid atop bent and bowed underneath the brute force.<br/>
Oak hammered the back wall, the racket nearly lost amidst Eivor's shouts of a convulsing climax. </p><p>Ubba devoured the sound, a large hand still circling his cock firmly around the head. The smooth spend spilled over his fingers and down his wrist. Ubba hummed in praise against their kiss while milking him dry.</p><p>Freyja must be with him, forcing his muscles to convulse behind taut skin, robbing him of breath and depth of his hugr.<br/>
Tears pricked the inner corners of Eivor's eyes, wetting his lashes and soon his cheeks, body overwhelmed with sensation.<br/>
Finally a gasp for air broke through his desperate, silent cries as he was filled, feeling warmth enter him in drudging waves accompanied with a sharp, graveling, "Fuck-" from behind.<br/>
"Ivarr-" he panted, bowing his head to Ubba's shoulder.<br/>
"Ubba..."</p><p>"And he lives." Pulling himself out with a sigh, Ivarr rolled into his back to reach for cloth to wipe himself off with. Hiding his breathlessness wasn't as easy as it used to be, especially when the warrior beside him worked his mind just as hard as his sex.</p><p>"As do you." Eivor followed his lead, laying flat to ease his buckling legs, wafts of orgasm draining from him slowly. A rough fingertip began at his shoulder before all fingers spread over his chest languidly. Ubba's touch relaxed the body he touched inch by inch as the heat of their sex carried away like sood to the wind off a dampened fire.<br/>
Eivor turned his head to the younger Ragnarsson. Their gazes lingered, obvious want coming from the other's expression.<br/>
Learning Ubba's softness through a wayward sexual encounter was Eivor's biggest surprise as the two leaned in slowly, their lips nearly brushing before the Norseman's chin was roughly whipped in the other direction. Ivarr's kiss slammed into Eivor's mouth in a demand to be felt and catered to.<br/>
This would have been unexpected had he been none the wiser. Again, jealousy, control, and possession fed the aggression of this affection.<br/>
Eivor helped himself to the rarity of Ivarr's lips on his own, feeling like he was teaching a rabid wolf to yield.<br/>
Once the older man's mouth bit around his love, Eivor hushed him gently, cradling the back of his head.<br/>
"Sh...shh. You act as if I had forgotten you lay beside me." He tried soothing, bringing Ubba's head closer to his cheek as he spoke to his brother.</p><p>"Forgot? Only an idiot would assume you could ignore me after fucking you like that." Ivarr scoffed, satisfied with his stolen kiss, not that kissing Eivor was satisfying, of course.<br/>
"C,mon, Ubba." He nearly jumped off the bed, expecting the other Ragnarsson to follow simply because he said so. </p><p>Ubba stayed nestled close to the Norseman, idly brushing strands away from his face and into the rest of his hair. He only watched Eivor's eyes flutter closed for a few seconds at a time, each time leaving him more eager to steal his kiss back. </p><p>"Ubba-" Ivarr began, obviously impatient to see Ubba's hands off his prize. </p><p>"Ivarr, lie down." Eivor reached the furs to his right and peeled them back, "I am in no position to see you both off now, nor would it be hospitable for me to allow you to ride off in the dark of night. Sleep, old man. You worked well, reap your reward." Eivor explained, voice more gruff and foggy in exhaustion than Ivarr's own. </p><p>The eldest Ragnarsson scratched his chin like he faced a quagmire of sorts though none were presented. It was only an argument of egos within holding his stride back from the large bed. In a mind accustomed to Id prevailing, the Ego struggled to present itself though now it clawed toward the top, carrying him back toward Eivor.<br/>
He slid in beside him, crossing his arms behind his head and looking up at the beams above. Was that bird's nest always there?<br/>
He glanced at their partner, who was already looking back at him with something of a gracious glint. </p><p>"You'll be on the back of your horse at the first sign of light." Eivor whispered, "Wake me. I might rest past your departure if you let me."</p><p>"We'll leave once you're awake with a belly full of bread and mead." Ubba insisted for them.</p><p>"We won't do this again." Ivarr did not dispute the conditions of their departure, but instead settled an absent argument.</p><p>"Then I respect your decision." Their bedfellow yawned behind his hand before closing his eyes, unwilling to discuss a needless conversation. </p><p>"He speaks for himself." Ubba jumped in quickly, his fingers trailing Eivor's body with tender pressure.<br/>
"Write knowing I am open to laying with you." He spoke his position. </p><p>"Is there a shortage of maidens in Ledecestrescire?" Eivor opened glossy half lidded eyes to his left. </p><p>"There's whores for winters to come. Ubba's just a greedy fuck and can't fit into any of them." Ivarr answered incorrectly on Ubba's behalf.</p><p>Eivor rolled his eyes over to his right. "And I assume your chastity prevents you from soiling the sheets of anyone but mine?" </p><p>"Ubba can play prince charming all night, WolfKissed. I have nothing to hide. I can plow you again and plow three of your shield maidens by the time I'm down your roads, but I won't. They can't take it like you do." Ivarr said matter of factly, head turned closely to Eivor's. </p><p>"Like I do." The Norseman didn't ask, but repeated tiresomely, knowing Ivarr had more to say before he capped off for the night. </p><p>"Like a God." Ubba spoke the core of his hugr in that very moment and the many before. Little did he know his description could not be more befitting.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Again, thank you guys for encouraging me to write. I was so nervous to publish my first work and didn't know if it was worthy being amongst so many great fics here. Eivor x Ivarr didn't seem to be too popular of a pair so I didn't expect such positive reception if at all. So thank you everyone for enjoying my first fanfic and giving me the boost in confidence to keep writing! 🖤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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